Birth of the Nightingale
by Darkflames and fire
Summary: In preparation to birth the daughter that will serve as his portal, Trigon must first have a son. The ceremony to bring forth a son into this world begins! First in the "Nightingale" series. OC centric.
1. Chapter 1

Well, this is the first installment in the replacement series for "Call of the Nightingale." If you like it, please follow me as an author to stay updated on the series, which will jump categories. Each installment will be one to two chapters. Thanks for reading and enjoy.

I do not own Teen Titans. Nightingale, however, is my own creation, with ideas combined from many different sources.

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"My lord, are you sure you should be performing this ritual? I mean, I know it is the only way for you to bear a son, but the consequences could be-"

"SILENCE!"

The great demon lord Trigon looked upon his advisor with a disdainful gaze.

"To fulfill the prophecy and make me rule the earth, I must first bear a son before a daughter. I can only bear a son through the shadow oath ritual with Nocturnal. No matter how powerful this child becomes, he is needed to live only until the portal is born." he said, clearly stating why these measures needed to be taken. The lower-class demon backed down, respecting the decision of his master.

"Make the preparations!" the advisor shouted to Trigon's royal priests, who were scattered around the large cavern they were in. They quickly readied the cavern for one of the most dangerous rituals there ever was, hoping that their lord would be unharmed. The head priest came forward to the stone altar, motioning for Trigon to stand next to a sink-looking depression in the center of the rock.

"We gather today to bring worship to two great deities, Nocturnal the Shadow and Trigon the Terrible. A pact will be made on her great mistress' terms, creating a shadow oath between demon and Deadra. She asks for an offering of high blood be placed in the holy shadow bowl at my feet. Cut your wrist with no fear, or you shall be rejected by her holiness." he chanted, motining to Trigon for the sacrifice of blood. The large red demon swiftly cut his wrist with a knife, letting the blood drip into the depression at his feet. Shadows began to dance along the outer edges of the cavern, and an outer ring of lesser priests began chanting.

"Nocturnal accepts your offer. Kneel before her presence as she appears." the priest continued. Trigon growled at being forced to kneel, but did so regardless, bowing his head respectfully. Another few rings of shadow danced in closer to the shrine, and the rest of the priests began their chant. From the spilt blood of Trigon, a flock of ravens took to the air, coming together at the ceiling of the cavern and taking the form of a beautiful woman dressed in robes of darkness. She floated down to the demon's level and opened her eyes. They glowed a stunning violet, and her skin was deathly pale.

"What can I do for you, my child?" the goddess inquired, her voice sounding layered and echoed, yet very calm and inviting. Trigon looked up but remained kneeling.

"I need a son to complete my destiny, yet I am cursed to only bear females. Would you be so kind you help me, mistress Nocturnal?" the demon asked, forcing his voice when he had to call her 'mistress.' Nocturnal looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding.

"The shadow oath is now set, Trigon the terrible. I will grant your desire. In return, this child must leave home by 18, and may not die before the age of 20. Do you accept that he will have powers that you have no control over?" Nocturnal asked, confirming the advisor's suspicions that this could be dangerous.

"I accept." Trigon said. Nocturnal looked back to the sacraficial bowl, which was once again bathed in shadow.

"It is done. Take care, my children."

With those words, Nocturnal took the form of ravens again, and flew back into her portal. The shadows and darkness in the cavern dispersed ring by ring, until only the singularity in the center was left. After a few minute's wait, that disappeared as well, leaving a baby in its' place. Trigon held him to the sky, showing the new child to his followers.

"I welcome you to this world, my child. **My son**!"

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I hope that was nice and spooky. I'll have another chapter in a bit, and the next story probably within a week. Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Blitz: Alright, so this was a bit longer of a wait than we had planned, but there have been a lot of things coming up lately, and the boss was having a tough time planning what to do next.

Darkflame: Doesn't help that he's a lazy ass...

Blitz: Don't be so mean, Darkflame. Anyway, we would just like to say that the boss does not own Teen Titans. He only owns Nightingale, a figment of his own imagination.

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Trigon's son was named Nightingale.

His name was a tribute to the servents of Nocturnal, who served their master with great power and finesse. He grew quickly, nowhere near accelerated physical growth, but mentally, the child was a genius. He did have at least a bit of extra physical growth, but that was only the demon blood in him. He was a true demon, born only from the blood of Trigon himself.

As he grew, the priests became increasingly worried.

Nocturnal had practically made assurances at the ceremony that Trigon's son would inherit immense power, yet he seemed almost normal at the age of ten. His sister, Raven, had been born eight years earlier, but they were kept separated for fear of Raven's powers reacting violently to her brother's presence. Nightingale was smart enough to realize that he had a sister, and brought up the topic to his father's assistant.

"Why am I not allowed to see Raven?" he asked in a deadly whisper. The young boy's violet eyes darkened with rage, and the servant knew he shouldn't be scared, yet he was afraid of what Trigon's child was capable of.

"I-I-I'm sorry, young master, but I have no idea who you are talking about." the servant lied, stuttering as Nightingale backed him up into a dark corner of the dining hall. The child growled, showing pearly-white teeth with vampire-like upper canines.

"I know you're lying, servant. Tell me where my sister is or **else**." Nightingale told the cowering demon. Said servant cracked under the pressure, spilling the secrets he was told to guard with his life.

"Sh-She's in Azerath! With her mother and the monks! P-Please don't kill me young master." the poor servant yelled hysterically. Nightingale stopped his advance and angry glare, once again adopting a happy smile that a child of his age should always be showing.

"Thanks, servant." he said childishly, completely contradicting his previous behavior. "Though, would you happen to know how people get there?" he asked. The servant cleared his throat and attempted to state his next words with as much dignity as he could, lest the child of Trigon advance upon him again.

"Unfortunately, only your father has the power to complete the spells to travel out of this dimension, and I recall him stating that Azerath is strictly off-limits..." The servant trailed off as Nightingale glared angrily at him again, as if he was the one stopping him from seeing his sister. "... Though the high-priest may be able to send young master there." Nightingale's glare subsided again, and he ran away happily, this time without a word. The servant sighed and slumped down in his now-safe little corner, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I may be a demon," he said to himself, "but that child is pure evil."

line

The high-priest of Trigon's kingdom looked up from the potion he was stirring when a knock came to his door.

"Unless it is the son of Trigon himself, go away!" he yelled, peeved. There was a small, childish giggle that came from the other side of the door before a jovial voice spoke,

"Guess you better open the door then, iereas daimonas*." Nightingale said, laughing at the small squeak he heard from the old priest on the other side of the door.

"J-Just a minute, young master!" the older demon shouted, rushing to the door and unlocking it. Nightingale stood in the doorway, smiling up at one of his favorite people in his father's castle. The old priest sighed as he ushered the young boy in, smiling at the name he was called by. "I see you have been studying your Greek, young master."

"Yeah, it's kind of interesting, but it doesn't really excite me." Nightingale said, losing his smile as his next words were said. "I need your help, priest." Said demon brought his head up to look at the son of Trigon, a shocked expression on his face.

"O-Of course. What could you possibly need of me, young master?" the priest asked, bowing his head and kneeling in respect. Nightingale almost immediately looked excited and nearly shouted at the older demon.

"I want to go to Azerath! Make me a portal." the young child demanded. The priest took a step back and started stuttering a bit.

"I-I'm sorry y-young master, your f-father has forbidden me t-to make a portal to A-Azerath." he told Nightingale, stepping backwards as the young demon adopted a glare that held killing intent.

"Do it now." he whispered in a deadly tone, completely shocking the older demon into doing what he was told.

"F-F-Fine!" he nearly shouted. "J-Just don't hurt me!"

The high priest of Trigon the Terrible pulled a certain book off of his bookshelf, causing the desk to lift off the ground, revealing a dismal passageway of stone stairs. He started down without another word, not even checking to see if his master's son was following. They wound down the dark stairs for roughly ten minutes, navigating twists and turns and split passages to end up in a torch-lit room with dark wooden walls. A violet portal glowed brightly at the end of the room, in the center of its' very own archway.

"The portal to Azerath is open to you, young master. Be warned, however, you may not return here unless you find another portal." the priest said, voice flat. Nightingale looked up with a content smile, his pearly-white fangs showing in an innocent way.

"Thank you, Abdhul." said the son of Trigon, addressing the high priest of his father's house by first name for the first and last time as he stepped through the portal.

Abdhul Herdotus sighed heavily, smiling bitterly as the portal to Azerath flickered and died out.

"You will face many challenges in your life, young master, but I know you shall overcome them. Whether you choose to bring destruction in your father's name, or become the dark angel you are meant to be, is up to you.

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End of story one

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Blitz: Thanks for reading, guys.

*Means "Demon priest" in Greek.

Darkflame: We'll have the next story up soon, which will focus on Nightingale's trip to Azerath, and years ten through fourteen of his life.

Blitz: We DO have a teaser for you, though.

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Gift of the Nightingale

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The weary son of Trigon nodded appreciatively to the purple-haired woman who was the mother of his sister.

"Thank you, miss Arella." he said quietly, slowly opening the door to his sleeping sister's room. The young demon quietly approached her bed, stopping just before touching the wooden frame.

"Her name is Raven." Arella said quietly, giving Nightingale a motherly smile.

The eight year old face of his sister was relaxed into a peaceful smile, and he reached out a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. The sister he would never be allowed to see awake.

And the moment Nightingale's finger came into contact with the strands of Raven's beautiful violet locks, was the moment all hell broke loose, and the son of Trigon's life was changed forever.


End file.
